First Impressions
by limonade
Summary: Rose's first impression of the Titanic, and of Jack, the first day onboard. ONESHOT!


_Disclaimer: I don't own _Titanic, _or any of the characters. _

_Note: This takes place before "Letting Go", but before "Ship of Dreams". It's not necessary to read them, but it's just to give you an idea of the timing. This is Rose getting on the Titanic for the first time, and when she sees Jack for the first time._

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**First Impressions**

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"_I don't see what all the fuss is about. It doesn't look any bigger than the _Mauritania" Rose said offhandedly. She was lying, though; she was in awe of the _Titanic_. It was an enormous ship, full of strength and power, but Rose was not impressed with either those things. But something about the ship, which was not even bobbing in the tossing tides of the ocean, intrigued her. It was not the size, nor was it the strength- it could have been a rowboat for all she cared. In fact, she may have preferred a rowboat, purely for the possibility that she could discreetly throw her fiancée overboard. No, what fascinated Rose about the _Titanic_ was the tingling sensation that ran through her body when she drew closer to the ship, as if she had been in a deep sleep for years and was finally waking up.

"_You can be blasé about some things, Rose, but not about Titanic. It's over a hundred feet longer than the Mauritania and far more luxurious. Your daughter is far too difficult to impress, Ruth," _Hockley replied pompously. But he was wrong, for Rose was not difficult to impress. It was simply that _he_ did not impress her, with his corrupt business dealings and his coveted bank accounts. Money was something he had been blessed with simply because he had been born with the surname "Hockley". Money was something Rose would be cursed with if she changed her surname to "Hockley" as well.

"_So this is the ship they say is unsinkable,"_ her mother said conversationally, trying to act as though she cruised on unsinkable ships as a means of daily transportation.

"_It is unsinkable,"_ Hockley declared with pride,_ "God himself couldn't sink this ship."_ Dangerous words to utter on a ship's maiden voyage… perhaps it had been this human audacity that caused God to steer the _Titanic_ to its downfall, as He had flooded the earth in the time of Noah, and destroyed the Tower of Babel so that no living man could reach heaven.

Rose was not paying attention to Hockley's words. She was willing the gentle breeze that was lazily drifting through the warm air to speed up into a raging wind, with hopes that it might sweep her off her feet and into someone else's life.

She glanced down hesitantly at the rippling water below as she climbed the ramp and boarded the ship. She feared that if she fell in, her heavy heart would drag her right to the bottom. And as Hockley's hand gripped her waist and held her, similarly to the way one might hold an object, the dark waters of the Atlantic suddenly looked more welcoming than ever. She halfheartedly tore her eyes away from the tantalizing depths and fixed her gaze on the ship- her brand new cage. The fact that it was an expensive and luxurious cage did not make it any more liberating.

Walking across the threshold from land to sea, Rose felt a trace of hope rise up within her, and set her jaw, thinking she was ready for whatever the future would hold, only to be proven wrong.

She had sat at the table, staring at the crisp, white tablecloth and idly arranging the caviar on her plate into interesting shapes. None of it reached her mouth, for Rose disliked caviar with a passion, and had lost her appetite when Hockley had ordered it for her regardless. She probably could have stomached the caviar. It was Hockley that made her want to vomit. Preferably on his expensive suit, if she had the chance to aim for it.

She had excused herself immediately after lunch to get some fresh air to calm her stomach. But the breaths of cold air entering her lungs did not make her feel better, instead, she felt worse as she thought of how she not only had to endure the cruise with Hockley- but the rest of her life.

Rose walked with as much composure as she could muster to an empty section of the upper deck. Sighing longingly, Rose raised her gaze to the horizon, a mural of color stretched across the sky.

She felt someone's eyes watching her, a feeling she had grown accustomed to over the years. She turned her head in the direction the stare was coming from, and locked eyes with a young man who was watching her intently. Another man followed his gaze and whispered something to him, but he did not avert his eyes. Rose tried to turn back to the dimming horizon, but found herself drawn to the young man as she sneaked another look at him. He was handsome, but common, bordering on plebeian. His clothes were worn, faded, and loose – obviously not tailored – and probably had not been washed for an unhealthy length of time. Rose thought they looked better then any one of Hockley's identical business suits, which were all stiffly ironed and uniformly black.

Speaking of Hockley, she suddenly caught a whiff of his nauseating cologne- or perhaps the revolting odor was Hockley himself. She felt his controlling hand grip her shoulder firmly and pull her back towards the world of high society. With one final glance at the mysterious man in third class, Rose found the third-class stranger, with his dirty clothes and messy hair, to be more attractive than her fiancée, whose very smell made her ill and whose touch made her cringe. At that moment, while he led her back into the dining hall to introduce her to more of his associates, she would have given anything to be in that man's arms instead of Hockley's.

_End_.

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